Last week, shocked at how I had to dress to safely walk around where I live, I posted a picture of myself to Instagram. I posted the picture because I wanted to vent — rather than fight — to do something about the madness that goes by the name of the city we live in right now. I am an outspoken woman. I am used to criticism. But sadly, what I am no longer able to stand is the level of risk that being an outspoken woman means to my own personal safety.
When I first started campaigning against female genital mutilation (FGM) I found myself unable to return home to Bristol or go into parts of London. That was hard, but I told myself this is ignorance and it will soon pass. It took years, but things did change. What kept me going was that I still had most of this incredible city, London, as a safety net.
